Post by Drive Train on Jun 18, 2020 14:41:53 GMT -5
Suzie had been right. She was always right about these kinds of things, but Arnold hadn't listened. Why should he? Disneyland was supposed to be the Happiest Place on Earth. Who cares if he normally wore a helmet? Once they understood the situation, the nice Disney folks would certainly let him in, right?
Right?
And so Arnold had cooperatively nodded when the guards asked to remove his helmet in line, trying to explain his situation. Rather than hear him out there in the line, he'd been quietly escorted to a separate room away from the other guests where he dutifully removed his head covering, trying to show the guards the situation. Surely they'd understand that he simply didn't want to scare the other park patrons.
Arnold never knew that Disney security packed so much heat until four guards were pointing weapons at him. Not that they could have hurt him - a simple wave of his hand would have vaporized the bullets long before they could reach him. It was the principle of the thing. He'd been excited about this trip, his first vacation away from his oppressive parents. He'd flown here with his friends in the cushy Ashton private jet, the same friends from school who hadn't heard so much as a peep from security when entering the park. But because of his menacing appearance, Disney gave him a stark choice: Leave under his own power, or get dragged out by the local police.
He agreed to leave, and was given the indignity of being "escorted" out by a pair of burly, armed Disney security guards, both of whom Arnold knew for a fact were prepared to try to beat him senseless should he do anything funny. A deep, bubbling part of Arnold's mind egged him on. It urged him to wheel on the guards and reduce them to their component atoms, to terrorize the small-minded reactionaries in park security. But no, as much as that would have pleased that dark, dangerous part of him, Arnold also knew that would ruin the vacation for his friends, and all of them had been looking forward to this trip, not just him. So out he went, past the long lines of waiting guests, past the families extricating themselves from their cars and SUV's and minivans, past the line of parents and children in vehicles waiting to pay for parking, all staring at his helmeted form as he walked past, head held as high as he could.
Once they were well out of the parking lot, at the front of the entrance road, one of the guards nodded to him and said, "Thanks for being cooperative sir, and have a magical day." The hidden message was clear as day: "Scram, kid, we don't want you here."
Two points of baleful green light flared under the silvery visor of Arnold's helmet. "Yeah. Right. Whatever."
Arnold and the guards stood there for a long few moments, staring at each other, before Arnold lightly lifted off the ground and streaked skyward, a pulse of energy propelling him back in the direction of Paragon City, leaving the two guards gawping helplessly on the sidewalk. It was a long flight, but he had a lot to think about on the way.
Right?
And so Arnold had cooperatively nodded when the guards asked to remove his helmet in line, trying to explain his situation. Rather than hear him out there in the line, he'd been quietly escorted to a separate room away from the other guests where he dutifully removed his head covering, trying to show the guards the situation. Surely they'd understand that he simply didn't want to scare the other park patrons.
Arnold never knew that Disney security packed so much heat until four guards were pointing weapons at him. Not that they could have hurt him - a simple wave of his hand would have vaporized the bullets long before they could reach him. It was the principle of the thing. He'd been excited about this trip, his first vacation away from his oppressive parents. He'd flown here with his friends in the cushy Ashton private jet, the same friends from school who hadn't heard so much as a peep from security when entering the park. But because of his menacing appearance, Disney gave him a stark choice: Leave under his own power, or get dragged out by the local police.
He agreed to leave, and was given the indignity of being "escorted" out by a pair of burly, armed Disney security guards, both of whom Arnold knew for a fact were prepared to try to beat him senseless should he do anything funny. A deep, bubbling part of Arnold's mind egged him on. It urged him to wheel on the guards and reduce them to their component atoms, to terrorize the small-minded reactionaries in park security. But no, as much as that would have pleased that dark, dangerous part of him, Arnold also knew that would ruin the vacation for his friends, and all of them had been looking forward to this trip, not just him. So out he went, past the long lines of waiting guests, past the families extricating themselves from their cars and SUV's and minivans, past the line of parents and children in vehicles waiting to pay for parking, all staring at his helmeted form as he walked past, head held as high as he could.
Once they were well out of the parking lot, at the front of the entrance road, one of the guards nodded to him and said, "Thanks for being cooperative sir, and have a magical day." The hidden message was clear as day: "Scram, kid, we don't want you here."
Two points of baleful green light flared under the silvery visor of Arnold's helmet. "Yeah. Right. Whatever."
Arnold and the guards stood there for a long few moments, staring at each other, before Arnold lightly lifted off the ground and streaked skyward, a pulse of energy propelling him back in the direction of Paragon City, leaving the two guards gawping helplessly on the sidewalk. It was a long flight, but he had a lot to think about on the way.
